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The stream (all workshops)

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In the Land of Chaos

In the land of chaos, where darkness reigns
And fear grips the heart with icy chains
I wander lost, through a maze of despair
Haunted by demons that lurk everywhere

My mind is a prison, my thoughts a curse
A never-ending cycle, a relentless hearse
That carries me deeper into the abyss
Where hope is a memory, and joy a myth

The shadows whisper, the silence screams
And I am trapped in a world of shattered dreams
Where every step is a battle, every breath a fight
Against the demons that haunt me day and night


I close my eyes to see the devil.
It is the fear that poisons us.

Could I survive the night,

this time.


Separate brick from bone
shattered from broken
unbreakable from just bent
Test when the gentle man
subverts the strike of
a hand with cause
when a languid lover
might submit to
some stolen power
a perception shift
Archaic ideas of weakness
failed to make you fit
To see past a forest
made of me
what trees are
who to believe
A view I let you see
Whisper to my simplest self
Clear my way and mind my mark
Lightning in a library
while you lick your lips

Big Gender Panties...

"Voices of reason don't have to shout"
I don't know who said, but it's true
feeling the passion, no freakin' doubt
just see it from my point of view

Screaming the same old epithets
who's playing the puppeteer now?
No matter who's taking the hits
it's the sweat of another man's brow

Do something to better the other one
but don't beat us to death with your shouts
I feel pounded and mashed under tons of them
I'm not in your club, let me out

poet on the brink

My pen laments the loneliness,
the emptiness of life.
On days when all seems meaningless,
as cruel as my ex-wife.

It pours its poison on the page
in streams of scribbled stress.
A waterfall of pent up rage
‘gainst pain I can't redress.

My ink it spills like blood or sweat
or bitter hemlock drink.
A rhyming river of regret
from poet on the brink.

It once breathed beauty, so they say,
when pure was poet’s breath.
But that sweet dream was yesterday
before my Muse's death.

Flower of Scotland

Oh Flower of Scotland, how you bloom

Amidst the hills and valleys,

you loom 
Your thistle so proud,

your spirit is so strong

Your beauty and grace, forever a song

From the blood on Culloden's field

To the battles fought with sword and shield

You stood your ground, you never gave in

Your courage and resilience, a Scottish sin

Your people are so fierce, so bold, and true

Their hearts beating with passion anew

From Edinburgh Castle to Glasgow's streets

Uninhibited (Not)

Is a word
I do not know.

It is an entity
Separate from me.

No one else but I
Suffers for
This distorted vision

That control can be kept
That burning, scorching fire
Is weakness of the soul.

I am lovely, yes
But lonely too.

I look up at my hands
Are they hands?
Icy veins

Frost bound skin
I think I’m cold
Devoid and barren
Strangling my own throat.


The US today is in a state if confusion
Where everything has changed so much

We have daily shootings
In our schools, markets and churches

Our news has ceased to be genuine
But now is infused by purchased opinion

Our leaders cease to pass bills for the public
And are reduced to protecting their employment

We watch on TV the Ukraine being destroyed by a tyrant
Yet we are so afraid to stop his actions

We no longer want to be called he or she
But now become they or them

Music as a master

Music my friends
will take you anywhere,
anywhere you long to be
a beautiful distraction
from what's on your mind
of what has been
and what may come to be
it brings joy and pain
or a peaceful refrain
with only a click or two
and with the right set up
will blow your head off
and I mean that figuratively
so when you're down
reach for that sound
you have surely got
nothing to lose,

June flower

June Flower

June flower, I want you to know that as you smile your astounding soul echoes a light for all to see.

Sometimes it doesn't occur to you how much you really mean and sometimes all the possibilities can be sewn in crystal translucent gemstone eyes; those in which you have been granted.

You come from a place of love and light, the realms of most enchanted with the smile you possess and hair a black rose, soft as woven silk: your entire being is a star lit night.


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